Flashbacks of a Fool
by Mazza666
Summary: ENTRY FOR A NEW CHAPTER CONTEST: Sookie has been married to Bill Compton for two years and then she meets Eric Northman and he turns her world around. Sookie looks back at the events that got her to the delivery room.


**Entry for A New Chapter Contest**

**Title: Flashbacks of a Fool**

**Characters: Sookie, Eric, Bill, Pam, Amelia, Tray, Lorena, Lafayette**

**Word count: 11,498**

**Pen name: Mazza666**

**Beta: Tradermare**

**Status: New to AH**

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns the rights to these characters. This story is rated M for a reason.**

**A/N: I would like to thank my fabulous beta Tradermare for all her help with this story. To give you a heads up, the timeline in this one-shot jumps around Tarantino-style (although I'm not sure he would appreciate that comparison!) It should all become clear as we go along…**

_I looked down at the little bundle in my arms and felt as if my heart would burst. _

"_She's so beautiful," I croaked, tears filling my eyes. _

_Lafayette smiled at me, indulgently. "She sure is. She's going to break hearts just like her daddy."_

_I snorted. "You have no idea…" I ran my finger over her tiny button nose as I rocked her against me, unable to imagine anything more beautiful._

"_Okay Sooks, it's time to get her all cleaned up," Lafayette asserted, his tone suddenly professional again. "And you need to get some sleep, missy, or you'll be no good to anyone, especially her. Nurse's orders."_

"_I do still feel a little woozy—" I admitted, ghosting kisses on each of her tiny fingers._

_Lafayette gave me a knowing smile. "It's the drugs. And you haven't had any sleep in over 27 hours…"_

"_Fine," I agreed, kissing her forehead one more time before reluctantly handing her over. "I'll get some sleep"…_

_**January 11**_

"Well, at least you're meeting with the brother," Tray asserted as we walked towards the club. "I've got that Pam woman, and she's supposed to be a total bitch."

"Tray, you're one of the most experienced security guys in Louisiana," I tried to reassure him. "I'm sure the interview is just a formality."

"Well I guess you'd know all about that," he joked.

"Tray!" I whined, playfully slapping his huge arm. "It's bad enough that they're gonna be thinking that without you adding to it…"

"Sook, you know I'm only teasing. You're fantastic at your job. You've earned this. Don't let Eric Northman or his bitch of a sister make you feel otherwise."

I nodded my head, reassuring myself. "I won't," I said firmly.

Tray put both hands on the door to the club's employee entrance. "You ready for this?" he asked turning his head back to me with a smile.

I nodded. "Yep. Ready as I'll ever be."

We made our way down the corridor toward the offices. A woman was coming out of a room at the far end. She narrowed her eyes when she saw us and then stalked over in our direction.

"Can I help you?" she asked in an aloof tone. Up close I realized how attractive she was. She was taller than me in her vertiginous heels, and her sharp suit clung to her slim curves, with her pale golden hair cascading down her back in meticulous waves. Her angelic features were tempered by a steely gaze, suggesting that you underestimated her at your peril.

Tray answered. "I'm Tray Dawson, and this is Sookie Stackhouse. We're here for our interviews."

"Pam Northman," she replied curtly, looking me up and down, raising an eyebrow. I attempted to stand a bit taller in response. "Well I suppose you better come with me Dawson." She shot me look. "My brother will be seeing to you."

She led us back down the corridor and knocked on one of the doors. "Eric," she said, opening a crack in the door so that only she could see inside. "Sookie Stackhouse is here to see you."

She gestured that I should go in; I flashed her my very best saccharine smile in response. After giving Tray one last look of encouragement, I bit the bullet, and stepped through into Eric Northman's office.

I'd heard from my cousin Claudine that Eric was something to look at but I still faltered a bit when I laid eyes on him for the first time. He was sitting behind a large dark wood desk, much more casually dressed than his sister, in black jeans and a form-fitting charcoal t-shirt. He was leaning back in his chair, his fingers interlaced behind his head, affording me the perfect view of his muscular arms. His hair was a slightly darker blonde than Pam's, but it fell messily to his shoulders, framing the most achingly handsome face I had ever seen. He looked at me, cobalt blue eyes intense and unreadable, and it was all I could do not to melt on the office carpet.

"Please have a seat, Ms Stackhouse," he said in a clipped tone, gesturing to the chair in front of him.

"Thank you," I replied politely, taking the seat. "Please call me Sookie."

Eric let out a sigh, dropping his hands to his desk and leaning towards me. "Well Sookie, let's cut to the chase shall we? This isn't a real interview. You and I both know that you are going to get this job. Your grandfather is the majority investor in my club, and I'm not going to waste my time or yours pretending otherwise." He leaned back again in his chair, eyes cool and appraising. "But getting the job and having my approval are two very different beasts. Let me tell you a little something about me: I'll tolerate your appointment to facilitate my business relations with Niall but I don't appreciate nepotism, and you won't be given any special treatment from me or Pam—"

"Oh don't worry, Mr Northman," I interrupted calmly, having been through this more than once before. "I'm fairly sure you and Pam will take great pains to ensure that my treatment is anything but special. Now let me tell you a little something about me… I graduated first in my class at Tulane, dual honours in finance and law, and since then I have been working for Niall. I started off as a marketing assistant in one of his LA clubs, paid my dues, got experience, and worked my way up. In the last five years I have successfully branded and marketed eight of Niall's clubs and bars, and in precisely seven of those positions, the project managers assumed that because I was young, blonde and Niall's granddaughter that I wouldn't be up to the task—"

I took a deep breath and Eric raised an eyebrow at me. "So basically what I'm saying is that I'm prepared for you to do your worst, but I'm not going anywhere. In the end, I'm confident that you'll appreciate the value of my contribution just like the rest of them."

Eric regarded me with an amused smirk. "Well, you're tenacious, I'll give you that…"

"You have no idea," I replied, raising both my eyebrows in challenge, my smile mirroring his.

"Maybe we should start this again?" he suggested, extending his large hand over the desk. "I'm Eric Northman."

"Sookie Stackhouse," I said with a genuine smile this time. I reached to shake his hand, trying to ignore the thrill I felt when his thumb glanced over my skin. What was wrong with me today?

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sookie," he grinned, coming out from behind his desk. "Now how about I show you around?"

"That would be great," I agreed, gathering up my purse from my feet. "I'm really excited to see what you guys have done."

Eric nodded. "So who was number eight?" he asked as he ushered me out of his office, hand in the small of my back.

"Number eight?" I asked, confused.

"You said seven project managers assumed that you wouldn't be able to hack it. Who was number eight?"

"Bill Compton," I replied, suddenly a little embarrassed but not sure why. "My husband," I added, feeling myself blush.

Eric's smile faltered for just a second as his eyes darted to my wedding finger. The diamond solitaire was there for all to see, accompanied by a simple platinum band. I hadn't ever felt self-conscious about it before but I immediately wished I had a pocket that I could shove my hand into.

"I guess I fell at the first hurdle then," Eric said, recovering with a laugh.

"Um… I would say you didn't even leave the stalls," I teased, trying to make light of it, but feeling my face burn even hotter.

"Oooh, my poor ego," Eric winced, chuckling at the same time. "Maybe I should just concede defeat and show you my club—"

_**May 15**_

I sat slumped on the floor, the coolness of the tiles giving me little comfort as my body convulsed again over the toilet bowl.

"I haven't got anything left to throw up," I groaned to Amelia as I wiped my mouth with some toilet tissue. "Why won't it stop?"

She had my hair gathered behind my head in one hand in a makeshift ponytail, and was holding a damp paper towel over my forehead with the other.

"Poor you," she sympathized. "If there's nothing more to come up, maybe we should get out of this bathroom, and get you home?"

"I've got too much work to do to go home," I moaned, holding out a shaky arm for Amelia to pull me up.

"Sook, you've been like this for over a week now. If you don't get some rest, you're never going to get better."

"Fine," I acquiesced with a sigh, moving to get up off the floor. "I guess you're right."

We exited the bathroom stall, and I looked at myself in the mirror, horrified. Thankfully, the club wasn't opening for another few hours. I tried to right my mascara which had smudged from my streaming eyes; I looked like I played guitar for KISS.

The bathroom door jostled open, and Pam entered carrying a brown paper bag. She thrust it at me with a raised eyebrow, not saying anything. Knowing better than to ask, I looked inside tentatively and tried not to gasp when I saw the pregnancy test inside.

"Since you two seem content to wilfully ignore the obvious, I thought someone should man up and go to the pharmacy," she said with a wry smile.

"Pam—" I warned. I knew it wasn't that. It couldn't be.

"Just pee on the fucking stick, Sookie," Pam ordered. "If it's negative then we can all go home, happy in the knowledge that we're all about to catch your stomach flu."

I looked to Amelia for support. She shrugged at me. "I think she might be right, Sook," she offered cautiously.

Right. Great friend she was.

With a defeated huff, I pulled the test out of the bag and stomped into one of the cubicles. My fingers were trembling slightly as I ripped open the cardboard box and pulled out the little plastic tube. My eyes flitted briefly over the enclosed instructions as I sat myself on the toilet, popping off the cap and placing the stick between my legs. I attempted to pee but nothing came.

"Can you two talk amongst yourselves or something?" I called nervously over the cubicle door. "I can't do this while I'm under pressure."

Immediately the whirr of the electric hand-dryer came on, and someone switched on a tap.

"Just get on with it," Pam called out as I finally peed, narrowly missing my hand in the process. I finished up and exited the stall, placing the test on the side as I washed my hands.

"So now we wait," Amelia broke the silence, stating the obvious. She looked as sick as I felt.

I paced up and down the bathroom, sweat beginning to form on the back of my neck. My hands were clammy, and I felt like I was going to vomit again as I swallowed back some bile. Amelia was sat on the counter by the sinks, watching me, fidgeting with her hands. Pam stood next to her, completely still, inspecting her manicure with a bored expression.

"It's time," Pam said after a few minutes. I really wanted to hit her, but I knew this wasn't her fault. Not really.

Slowly I made my way over to the sink and picked up the test. I felt my knees buckle slightly as I read the plastic strip. Pam, efficient as ever, had bought a test that left no room for interpretation. It was there, spelled out in bright blue letters.

"Pregnant," I whispered, holding onto the side for support.

"Congratulations," Amelia burst out, her tone as fake as her smile.

"Oh God," I rasped as tears began to well in my eyes. This couldn't be happening to me. I slumped to the floor, test still in my hand. I kept looking at it; I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

"Who's the father?" Pam enquired bluntly, regarding me with a measured look.

"Pam!" Amelia chided, saving me a response. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

My eyes darted to Amelia. She wasn't faking this time. Tray obviously hadn't told her anything.

"Amelia?" I asked, taking a deep breath and pulling myself up from the bathroom floor. My legs were as shaky as a newborn foal's. "Would you take me home please? I'm not sure I'm up to driving right now."

"Sure," she agreed, eyes full of affection.

"Sookie—" Pam started but I put up my hand to silence her.

"Not now Pam," I said, walking towards the bathroom door. "Not now."

_**March 18**_

Bill approached the table with the drinks in his hands. "This place is a nightmare," he complained, handing me my gin and tonic. "There's a line at the bar five people deep, and the music is way too loud."

"Don't you have loud music at your club in Seattle, Bill?" Amelia teased, taking a sip of her rum and coke.

Bill shot her a look. "It's a private members' jazz club, Amelia. It has a slightly more sophisticated feel to it than this place."

"I love jazz—" Tray answered with a sly smile. "Whenever I need help getting to sleep I pop some on and five minutes later—"

Amelia stifled a giggle as Bill turned away from us to face the dance floor. I sighed; he'd been in a stinking mood for the last couple of days since he'd got back from Mississippi. I'd thought a night out at the club with Amelia and Tray might perk him up a bit, but it was a big mistake. He never really got on with my friends at the best of times, but tonight he was making no effort at all.

I leaned into Bill. "They're just joking," I whispered. "Please try and relax."

Bill gave me a pointed look as he drained his beer.

"I need another one," he announced, getting up. He looked to us, to see if anyone else wanted another. Amelia and I both proffered our glasses, which were still practically full. Tray shook his head.

"I'll be back," Bill said, mustering a thin half-smile. "I may be some time."

Pam wandered up to see us after a while. Bill still hadn't made it back to the table.

"Sookie, Sookie, Sookie," she drawled. "You just can't keep away can you?"

"Hey Pam," I replied with a smile. I gestured at Amelia with my drink. "This is my best friend, Amelia. Amelia, this is Pam. She owns the place with her brother, Eric."

"Oh, so you're the ballbreaker Tray keeps telling me about," Amelia said with a cheeky smile.

Tray shifted uncomfortably in his seat, shooting a worried glance first at Amelia, then at Pam. Pam took it in the spirit it was intended though, throwing her head back and roaring with laughter.

"I already like her better than you," she said to me with a wry grin.

"Don't I know it," I smirked. "So how's the club tonight Pam?"

"Fucking awful," she replied, features knitting into a scowl. "Felicia went home with the flu this afternoon, and Sam's mother is in hospital, so we're down two bar tenders. Eric is filling in at the main bar but the place is packed out tonight, and the bar's all backed up. Next thing you know, I'll be shovelling ice and cutting up the lemon wedges..." She flashed me her perfectly manicured talons. "These hands weren't meant for manual labour."

"Did you want me to help out?" I offered with a smirk.

Pam's frown deepened. "You can tend bar?"

"Of course she can," Amelia interjected.

"I worked in one of Niall's bars in Baton Rouge all through college," I explained. "I make a mean mojito. You should try it some time," I added with a wink.

"I take it back," Pam said with a sincere smile. "I like you better..."

I rolled my eyes as I got up from my seat and followed her across the dancefloor.

"So, who was that dark-haired guy you came in with?" Pam asked over her shoulder, as we made our way through the throng towards the main bar.

"Um, that was Bill. My, er, husband?" I frowned, not sure why I replied in question form.

Pam laughed evilly. "My, my, that will make Eric's night..." I pretended not to hear her, not sure how to reply. "He's handsome," she offered.

I nodded, slightly confused. Was she talking about Bill or Eric?

"Not my type of course, but he's got that old-fashioned movie star thing going on." Oh, Bill.

"I think so," I agreed with a smile. After all, wasn't it his old-style good looks and gentlemanly manners that had attracted me to him in the first place?

We approached the bar, and I spotted her brother serving a customer. Eric had his hair tied back but loose strands fell around his face, dancing in the light. He was a whole different level of handsome. As we approached, he raised his eyes, and they caught mine. His face lit up with a huge smile, and I felt my panties melt.

"Sookie's come to help you out," Pam explained.

"Brains, beauty, and bar tending skills?" Eric joked while pouring tequilas for a bunch of rowdy frat boys. "I think you may be my perfect woman." Eric's customers cheered in agreement and I felt myself blush.

"Oh, bartending is just one of my many talents," I flirted back, unable to stop myself. I immediately looked around me, suddenly self-conscious, remembering that my husband was in the vicinity. Good God, I needed to sort myself out.

"I'll just bet it is," Eric leered as I blushed again.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur. Eric and I hardly had a chance to speak to each other, it was just so busy, but he flashed me a grateful smile every now and then that made my stomach flutter. I only saw Bill a few times when he came up to the bar to replenish his beers, his criticism of the club getting more vocal with each one. I noticed Eric raise an eyebrow when I tried to reason with him, pleading in hushed tones, trying to persuade him that he'd had enough to drink. It was mortifying; I'd really owe Tray and Amelia after tonight for looking after him.

The club had cleared a little by 2a.m., so Pam came by to tell me I should go home. I went to find Eric to tell him I was leaving. He was leaning on the bar, chatting away with two very attractive female customers.

"Eric, um, sorry to interrupt, but I'm off now." I tried to keep my tone impassive, but deep down I was slightly irritated. I knew it was irrational. I was married, for God's sake, and Eric was totally free to fuck whomever he wanted six ways till Sunday which, given the way both girls were hanging off his every word, he would probably be doing tonight. Times two.

He gave the girls a wink and sidled over to me. I tried not to roll my eyes. "You were an absolute lifesaver tonight, Sookie. I can't thank you enough." He smiled, his megawatt genuine smile, and instantly my sore back and feet seemed totally worth it.

"You're welcome, Eric," I murmured.

He bent down and ghosted his lips across my cheek. "I'll see you Monday," he breathed into my ear.

He straightened up as Bill approached us, flush-faced and staggering a little. I stiffened a little, trying to force my brain to control the blush blooming across my cheeks. My eyes flitted to my husband, but he seemed oblivious. Eric's face remained impassive.

"Thanks again, Sookie," Eric called casually after me as Bill and I made our way out of the bar.

Bill turned onto his side to face me and ran his index finger down my arm.

"C'mon sweetheart," he urged. "Do it for me. I need you."

"I really am exhausted," I tried to insist, pulling the sheets up under my armpits. I was feeling guilty. We hadn't had sex in weeks, months maybe. Usually Bill was too tired, so I felt even worse saying no when he was actually in the mood.

He began to palm my breast anyway and I felt my libido stir a little. I sighed in acceptance, arching into his hand as he kissed my neck. He quickly switched the focus of his efforts, his hand slipping into my panties, rubbing me between my legs. Bill's drunken fingers were rough, clumsy against me. I felt small jolts of pleasure but mostly it was just uncomfortable. Frustrated, I tried to shift my position against his hand but it wasn't working.

Stifling a sigh, I reached down between us, pushing down my panties and grasping Bill in my hand, stroking him, urging him to get on with it. He let out a muffled groan as he entered me.

"Oh so good," he muttered, moving into me with shallow thrusts.

I pulled my thighs up, trying to get him to go deeper. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on building towards my orgasm, but flashes of Eric began to seep into my mind. I opened my eyes at once, forcing them out, attempting to make eye contact with Bill, and bring myself back into the moment but to no avail.

"Ugh-huh," Bill cried out after a final push, spilling into me with a shudder. He collapsed on me for a second and then kissed me hard on the mouth. "That was amazing," he murmured.

"Mmm-hmm," I agreed, humouring him. I slipped out of bed after a moment and made my way to the bathroom to clean myself up. By the time I returned to bed, Bill was on his side, asleep.

With a sigh, I backed into his arms, exhausted and unsated, finally able to close my eyes for the night.

_**September 15**_

Eric shut the door to his office. I gave him a quizzical look as I sorted through the latest budget reports.

"I want you to leave him," he said, voice low, totally serious.

I looked at him, utterly stunned. My breath caught in my throat as I contemplated his statement.

"You know I can't do that," I whispered after a moment, shaking my head.

"I know you _won't_ do that. It's not the same thing," he answered, a sullen frown darkening his features.

I felt the hot prick of tears sting my eyes. "Eric," I pleaded. "Please don't do this. I feel pathetic enough, without you making me feel bad. I'm scared; I don't want to be a single mother. Bill is steady—"

"He's cheating on you—" I gave him a look, making it clear that wasn't exactly a valid argument.

"I don't know that for sure," I answered with a sigh, lying to him and myself.

"You don't love him—" Eric urged.

"He loves me. He won't leave me."

"You don't love him," he repeated. A challenge.

I felt anger start to build inside me. "So what if I don't Eric?" I jeered, nerves finally snapping. "What do you want me to do? I've got a child on the way. Are you telling me I should leave him for you? That you're going to give up the girls and the late nights to stay at home with me and play daddy?"

"I told you that I would help provide for the child," he said with a frustrated sigh, slumping down on his office couch.

I looked at him shaking my head. "That's not what I asked…"

He looked at me, eyes awash with hurt, but he said nothing.

I exhaled forcefully, tired and bitter. "That's what I thought."

_**March 25**_

I heaved the box out into the main the bar. Eric was sitting at one of the tables. He had his black-rimmed glasses on and was pouring over some blueprints, intense look of concentration on his face.

He looked up as he heard me approach and jumped up to help me. "Hey Sookie, here let me take that," he offered with a smile.

"Thanks," I replied, handing the box over. "It's actually really heavy."

Eric took the box from my hands as if it were full of cotton wool. I tried not to look too impressed as he carried it over to a nearby table. His t-shirt caught up a little as he held the box against his torso, affording me a sneaky peak at his chiselled stomach. I congratulated myself for resisting the urge to lick my lips.

"Are these the flyers?" he asked, giving me a knowing smirk as he righted his t-shirt.

I ignored him and nodded, looking at the box instead of him. "I think so. I haven't opened it yet."

"Well I'm excited to see how they've turned out," he said enthusiastically, bumping against me with his hip, demanding my attention.

"Me too," I smiled, jostling him back. I hopped over to the bar and fished around for a knife, using it to spear through the plastic bindings on the box.

"Sookie...?" Eric asked. I turned my head to him, distracted, and suddenly felt a flash of pain as the knife sliced through my hand.

"Shit," I hissed as blood started to pour from the cut. "Oh Jesus." It was deep.

"Fuck Sookie, are you alright?" Eric asked, face full of concern. "Shit, I'm sorry. Here let me look."

He grabbed my hand and led me over to the sink, running the wound under the cold water. My blood continued to gush, pooling by the drain, but the coolness of the water numbed the pain a little.

"I think we need to wrap this up," he said, brow furrowed. "It won't stop bleeding. Come on, I've got a first aid box upstairs. Keep your hand up like this." He grabbed my elbow and hoisted it upwards so that it was parallel with my shoulder, and grabbed my other hand in his, leading me through the club out into the parking lot.

He led me over to some steps at the rear of the club. We walked up and then stopped in front of a door. I looked at Eric, bemused.

"You live above the club?" I asked, curiously.

"It's not permanent," he replied with a smile. "I'm waiting for the sale of my new apartment to go through. Until then, this is convenient. I tried living with Pam for a while. I lasted three days—"

I laughed as he turned his key in the door, ushering me in. I looked around me, taking in the modern open plan space. It was huge but there were only a few basic pieces of furniture; no ornaments, no pictures, nothing personal. I clenched my hand, not wanting to spill any blood on the floor.

"I'm sure this place comes in very handy after a hard night at the club," I suggested. I grimaced instantly, aware of the two ways in which that statement could be taken. "I, um, I meant that it's not too far to go when it's late, and you want to get to bed…" I stuttered, not sure that my explanation made my meaning any clearer.

"It's certainly very close," Eric agreed with an amused smile. "Right, I know I've got some bandages here somewhere," he added, leading me into the bright, modern kitchen.

He crouched down to look in the cupboard under the sink. "Ah, here we are." He pulled a first aid kit out of the cupboard. It was brand new, and he had to break the seal to get it open. He opened up an antibacterial wipe.

"Let me see your hand," he commanded. His voice was low, demanding, and I shivered involuntarily as I held my hand out to him. He ran the wipe over the cut and I flinched at the pain.

"Sorry," he said, giving me a lop-sided smile of apology. He rooted around in the box pulling out a large padded band aid. I watched him as he pulled at the backing strips and then smoothed it over my hand with dexterous fingers, careful not to press too hard on the cut. He looked up from my hand, and his eyes caught mine. There was something primal, protective in them, and I felt my insides clench low in my stomach.

Eyes never leaving mine, he lifted my hand up to his mouth and kissed my palm. I felt my stomach dip again as my heart began to pound. "All better," he whispered.

"Eric—" I murmured, not sure what I wanted to say.

Languidly he leaned into me, pressing me up against the sink, his mouth dangerously close to mine. I think I stopped breathing.

"Eric—" I tried again.

His lips ghosted across mine, cutting me off. The kiss was light, sensual, a thousand tiny impulses tingling all over my body. He pulled his face back to look at me, our bodies still pressed together. His eyes were questioning, not sure of my reaction.

A heartbeat passed between us, and I pulled him to me in a blaze of lust, my mouth pleading for more. His tongue brushed up against my lips, and I opened my mouth, granting him entry, feeling myself shudder as his tongue stroked against mine.

Eric grabbed me, not breaking the kiss, and lifted me up onto the kitchen counter. Now at the perfect height, I wrapped my legs around him as he ground himself against me. I felt waves of pleasure ripple through me as I writhed against the already hard bulge in his jeans.

"Fuck Sookie," Eric groaned, kneading my ass with his hands.

Eric began to lay kisses on my neck; wet, open-mouthed kisses that made me shiver with want. He reached my collarbone and ran his tongue along it, at the same time running his thumb across my breast, grazing my nipple and sending sensations straight to my core. I felt myself moan into his touch, urgent against his hand.

"I want to take you to bed," Eric murmured, nipping on my earlobe and sucking on the sensitive area below my ear.

My body tensed for a second as my mind raced through the implications. I'd already crossed so many lines, but if I slept with Eric, it would be a whole different level of complicated. But why was I denying myself? I wanted this, and I wasn't sure that I owed Bill anything, not any more.

I pulled back from Eric and nodded.

"Tell me," Eric growled. The look in his eyes was feral. I felt terrified and thrilled at the same time.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Louder," he demanded, rubbing himself against me, sensations spiralling through my body.

"I want you to," I said firmly.

His mouth found mine again, devouring me, as he lifted me off the counter and carried me through the apartment, laying me gently on his huge bed.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you," he said hoarsely, pulling my top off over my head and deftly unzipping the side of my skirt. He eased my skirt off me and leaned back on his heels, taking me in.

"So beautiful," he whispered, running the backs of his hands over the tops of my breasts and across my stomach. I jerked in response and Eric smiled before pulling off his own t-shirt and chucking his glasses on the nightstand.

He kissed me again and began to move down my body, butterflying kisses over my chest as his fingers danced over my aching nipples. I ran my hands through his hair and over his shoulders as he roughly pulled down one of the cups of my bra, teasing my hardened nipple with his lips and teeth. I felt moisture pool between my thighs as he rubbed my other breast through the rough lace of my bra, the differing sensations causing me to moan, to arch against him, wanting more.

With a smile on his lips, Eric kissed his way down my stomach, and my breath caught in anticipation. He eased my panties down my legs, and then pushed my knees up and out to the side, exposing me completely.

Keeping his eyes on mine, he extended his tongue and ran it along my slit. I bucked off the bed in pleasure, at the intensity of the sensation, as he continued to nip and suck on the sensitive areas between my legs, teasing me.

"Eric," I pleaded, tugging at his hair by the root, needing more. With a chuckle that reverberated against my core, he flattened his tongue and laved it over my clit. I cried out in pleasure, writhing beneath him and thrusting my hips forward. I felt the pressure of Eric's fingers as they entered me, working me from inside as his lips encircled my clit and he began to suck. He grazed my g-spot with every stroke of his fingers and I began to come undone. I screamed out his name as my orgasm ripped through me. Eric stayed between my legs licking and sucking lazily until my body stilled.

"Holy fuck," I exclaimed after a giving myself a moment to recover. "That was just... I don't have words..."

Eric laughed. "I do," he smirked. "Exquisite, delectable, delicious—"

I sat up on the bed and unclasped my bra, wantonly flinging it to one side.

"Breathtaking," he added, pupils dilating. I gave him a coy smile.

"Actually I do have a few words of my own," I murmured, crawling towards him and tugging him to me by the waistband of his jeans. I ran my fingers along his fly, and began to unbutton his jeans. "Huge, magnificent..." My eyes widened as I freed him from his jeans. "Intimidating..." I added biting my lip, noting that he'd gone commando. I leaned forward and ran my tongue along him from root to tip. He jerked against me, letting out a deep groan.

Within seconds, I was pinned on my back with Eric positioning himself above me. I freed a hand and ran my fingers along his length, guiding him to my entrance.

"Condom?" Eric groaned, unmoving above me.

"Not an issue for me," I whispered. For reasons I wasn't going to think about now, I'd got myself tested with my last smear a couple of months ago and I knew pregnancy wasn't an issue.

"I'm clean," Eric confirmed with a nod and pushed his hips forward.

I gasped at the sheer size of him as he pushed his way inside me. He stilled for a second allowing me to adjust and then filled me to the hilt.

I tried not to think of Bill as Eric moved inside me, but the comparisons were unavoidable. I had never felt this aroused, the sensations as he filled me again and again all felt new, magnified, sending the most exquisite rushes of pleasure shuddering through my body with each thrust.

I cried out, close, as tears pooled in my eyes, and came hard around him. My release spurred him on. Grabbing my hands above my head, he thrust into me once, twice more and then found his own release, shouting out in Swedish as he shuddered above me.

After a second he moved alongside me and wrapped me into his arms, stroking the hair away that had mixed with perspiration to cling to my forehead. We were both still panting, still coming down. I pressed my cheek into his chest.

"This changes everything," I whispered, almost to myself, closing my eyes.

"Yes," Eric agreed, drawing me closer with a contented sigh, holding me until we both fell asleep.

_**March 22**_

"Hello?" A woman's voice answered the phone. I pulled my cell away from my ear and looked at the screen, confused.

"Oh, um, sorry. I think I may have the wrong number. I was phoning for Bill Compton?"

"Who is this?" The voice asked, tone suddenly a little frosty.

"It's Sookie. Bill's wife," I replied firmly, a little irked.

"Oh Sookie, right. Let me just hand you over."

I heard a rustle at the other end of the phone and then Bill answered. "Hello sweetheart."

"Hey Bill. I tried phoning the club for you, but they said you didn't go in today?" I tried to keep any accusation out of my voice, but my heart was suddenly thundering in my chest.

"Oh right. Actually I'm just here at the apartment with Lorena going over a few numbers." Lorena was Bill's club manager in Seattle. I'd met her a couple of times, but I'd never warmed to her. I liked her even less now.

"How's that going?" I asked, still trying to moderate my tone. What I really wanted to ask was, _What is she doing in our apartment?, _but I knew I couldn't.

"Fine, fine," he drawled. "They're installing a new air conditioning system at the club, so it made sense to come back here for some peace and quiet…"

He was lying. My instincts told me he was lying through his teeth.

"I guess I should leave you both to it then," I replied, voice cracking, my throat thickening with emotion.

"Sure sweetheart, I'll call you tomorrow. I love you."

"Um, sure. Speak to you tomorrow."

I hung up the phone, clutching it to me, as I curled up into a ball on the couch; hot, angry tears falling silently down my cheeks.

_**May 10**_

I pushed against his chest. "Eric, please, I'm not sure I can do this anymore."

"You say that lover but your body is telling me something completely different." As if to prove his point, he ground his erection against me and I groaned, throwing my head back to grant him better access as he kissed down my neck.

"I'm terrified that he's going to find out—" I whispered.

Eric stopped his attentions and looked at me, gaze intense. "Do you really want to stop this, Sookie? Because if you do, you're going to have to be the one to say it. I don't think that I can stay away from you—"

His eyes were so blue, his expression utterly raw, and I knew that he was right; I couldn't stop this either. I'd never felt so alive. I'd do anything to preserve this feeling, to keep feeling this with him.

"No," I whispered in defeat. "I want you too much."

Eric's mouth crashed into mine, devouring me with his lips and his tongue. We clawed at each other, rough and feverish, pulling at zips and buttons until he entered me in one hard stroke. I knew he was claiming me as his, and I revelled in it. I bit my lip to keep myself from crying out as papers began to fly off his desk as he rammed into me over and over again. I felt my release begin to build as I dug my heels into his gorgeous ass, spurring him on. I felt Eric begin to swell inside me as he reached in between us, massaging my clit with the pad of his thumb. Body tensing, I let out a silent scream as my orgasm shattered through me, just as he released inside me with a quiet groan.

With a final soft kiss to my lips, he pulled me up, still gasping, into a sitting position. We were still joined, my legs wrapped around his waist.

I froze with horror when I saw him.

"Um, shit, I'm sorry. The delivery… Shit. I knocked but…" Tray stuttered, frozen in the doorway, flustered, running his fingers through his hair. His horrified expression mirrored my own. "Look I'll just go…"

"Tray!" I called out, but the door had already closed behind him.

_**June 12**_

Pam stomped into the office I shared with Arlene, her killer heels leaving tiny dents in the rug.

"Here are the latest budget numbers," she said, chucking a folder on my desk.

"Okay, thanks," I replied warily, taking off my glasses as I looked up from my computer screen. She stood on the other side of my desk, arms folded hostilely. "Um, is there anything else I can do for you Pam?" I asked, confused, casually flicking through the file.

"Yes," she said. "You can stop fucking my brother around for one."

My eyes flickered to the open door. Arlene was at lunch but she'd be back soon.

"Pam, please—"

"You need to sort yourself out, Sookie, and work out what it is you want."

"Pam," I hissed, getting angry now. "How dare you? You don't know a thing about my situation. This is not the time or the place for this discussion. And even if it were, frankly it's none of your fucking business—"

"You're carrying his baby—"

"I don't know that Pam. And really I'm not discussing this with you. We both know that if Eric knew you were doing this—"

"If Eric knew you were doing what?" A low voice interrupted us.

Pam whirled round as her brother entered the room. "Eric, I—" she started.

"Shut up Pam," he said firmly. I looked at Eric, wearily. Pam clenched her mouth shut, staying silent. "Sookie? What's going on?" he asked, exasperated.

I shook my head, breathing deeply to calm myself. This kind of stress was not good for the baby.

"Sookie?" Eric asked again.

I reached under my desk and retrieved my purse. "This is between you and your sister," I said with a sigh. "I'm going to lunch."

The sound of their strained voices carried as I hurriedly left the darkness of the club, and made my way across the deserted parking lot, finally relaxing as the warmth of the sun caressed my face.

"Sookie!" I heard Eric's voice calling after me. I got into my car, ignoring him.

Tears began to well in my eyes. I couldn't do this; I wasn't sure I was strong enough.

"Sookie," he yelled again, sounding defeated this time. I turned on the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot without looking back.

_**March 10**_

I wandered out into the main area of the club, looking for a drink. I poured myself a double shot of gin at the bar and searched around for a bottle of tonic water. I crouched down, rifling through the fridge when a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.

"You needed a drink too, I see."

I stood up to see Eric standing next to me. He was wearing a pale grey suit with a crisp white shirt. His slim black tie was pulled loose, top button open, his hair dishevelled. He looked good enough to eat, and I had to instruct my brain to close my gaping mouth.

He poured himself a large scotch. "The tonic's in the fridge over there," he said, noting my dilemma.

I walked over to the fridge and fished out a bottle. "Thanks. So what happened to you?" I asked over my shoulder, noticing him watching me.

"Meeting with the planning department," he sighed, taking a long gulp of his drink. "They're not budging on the proposal to extend the club." He snorted. "If they're not careful, I'm going to have to set Pam on them…"

I laughed at the thought. "God, no one deserves that, no matter what they've done."

Eric chuckled, tossing me a lime for my drink. "So true. So who pissed on your fireworks today?" he asked with a grin. "Who do you need me to kill?"

"Oh it's nothing… My husband just phoned to tell me he was staying in Seattle for another couple of days," I admitted with a frown, not sure why I was sharing.

Eric's expression suddenly shut down. "And you miss him." It wasn't a question.

"No, that's not it at all actually—" I blurted out. Eric's eyes flashed to meet mine, full of inquisitiveness. "Um, well, er, of course I miss him but—" I so wasn't doing this with him. "Um, cheers," I said, clinking my glass against his, trying to change the subject.

"Skål," he replied with an easy smile.

"Is that Swedish? Danish?" I asked, curious. I'd noted that he had a slight trace of an accent on certain words, but I'd never asked.

"Both actually but I'm Swedish. I came over here when I was ten, and Pam was four." That explained why Pam didn't really have an accent.

"You're still fluent?" I asked.

"Well I try to speak it as much as I can, but I haven't been to Stockholm in five years, so I get a little rusty… Pam's Swedish is pretty bad, not that she'd admit it," he added with a laugh.

I smiled, leaning up against the bar next to him. "What about your parents?"

Eric's face went serious for a second. "They divorced when I was fourteen. Dad remarried and moved back to Europe. We don't see much of him. Mum died a couple of years ago… breast cancer."

"I'm sorry," I said with a sigh. "My parents died when I was ten. It does get easier with time but you never really get over it."

He nodded, pensive for a second, and then let out a snort. "We were supposed to be making ourselves feel better not worse," he laughed. "Now I wish I was still in my meeting."

I felt my chest tighten with disappointment at his flippant comment and looked down at my drink. I felt him move closer to me, and his index finger glanced under my chin.

"I was joking," he murmured. His eyes were heated. I could hear my heart pumping in my chest. "Right here is exactly where I want to be."

"Eric…" I warned.

His gaze held mine for another heartbeat before his expression changed, and he was casual, playful again.

"So, as I was saying, how about we try cheering the fuck up?"

I nodded, grateful that he'd given me a reprieve. "Let's look on the bright side," I suggested. "I mean you seem to have a very close relationship with Pam…?"

"I do," he admitted with a soft smile. His eyes filled with affection. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I want to kill her fairly regularly, but she's all I've got… I'll deny it if you tell her but I love her more than anything."

I nodded. "I wish I was like that with my brother. I get the wanting to kill him part, it's just the other bit that's missing…" I joked.

"But you have Bill…" he suggested. There was an undertone of challenge in his voice. I looked at him, surprised that he had remembered his name.

"Yes," I said cautiously. "I have Bill."

"How long have you been married?" he asked casually, draining the contents of his glass and pouring another one. He proffered the bottle of gin at me. I nodded.

"Two years," I offered.

"And you met him on the job?"

"Yes, we worked together publicizing his club in Seattle. Six months later we were married." I shrugged, as if there were no more left to tell. An awkward silence fell between us.

"What about you, Eric? Do you have a wife, girlfriend?" I tried to adopt an indifferent tone but I could feel my cheeks warm. He'd asked me about my personal life. This was fair game, right? So why did something inside me feel like I was crossing a line.

"No one special," he said with a resigned smile. "I guess I'm not really the settling down type." He mirrored my shrug. "Neither is Pam. I blame our parents…"

I poured myself another double measure of gin. "I call bullshit," I stated as I poured in the tonic. The alcohol had made me braver. Eric chucked me another lime wedge, and I caught it, clumsily, squeezing it into my drink.

He raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Everyone has the capacity to be in a relationship. It's not just something that you learn. The ability to love and respect someone is innate. You just have to want it enough…"

Eric smirked. "Sookie, are you trying to tell me that I just need to find the right girl?" he teased.

"Something like that," I agreed, smiling at the cliché.

He laughed, raising his glass dramatically, and clinked it against mine. "To meeting the right girl…"

"Skål," I replied with a smirk.

_**May 17**_

With a rallying deep breath, I knocked on the door of Eric's office. His velvety voice beckoned me in, and I entered tentatively. He looked up from his desk and my mood instantly lightened when I saw his expression. He looked so happy to see me, relieved even. I was sure that his good humour would disappear pretty swiftly once I told him my news.

"Hey," he beamed. "I didn't think I'd get to see you tonight—"

I couldn't help but return his infectious smile even though my insides were tying themselves in knots. "Bill thinks I'm on a girl's night out. I'm sure Pam will cover for me if I need her to."

Eric came out from behind the desk and wrapped me in his arms. "I'm glad you came," he whispered, leaning down to kiss me. I returned his kiss but couldn't stop the shudder of my sobs as he pulled me into him.

He reared back, concern marring his perfect features. "Hey, hey," he soothed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "What's all this? Sookie, what's wrong?" His eyes were full of affection, causing my heart to break even further.

"Eric," I started, voice thick and cracking. "I need to tell you something..."

Eric nodded. "Okay," he said warily, beginning to appreciate the gravity of the situation. He took my hand and led me to the black leather couch on the side of his office. We sat down, twisting to face each other. He held onto my hand, running his thumb across my wrist in reassuring strokes. He didn't say anything; he just waited for me to speak. His expression was impassive, prepared.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna come out and say it..." Another burst of tears erupted. I felt like a child, but I couldn't stop them. I'd ruined everything. I put my free hand on my chest, finding it hard to breathe.

Eric gripped my hand, urging me on. "Sookie, please," he said. "You're killing me here..."

"Eric, I'm pregnant..." I blurted out, louder than I planned.

Eric just looked at me, frozen. His mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak but he never did. His eyes conveyed a series of emotions: shock, followed by understanding, then panic. He was silent for a moment, frowning and running a distressed hand through his hair, as he contemplated my words.

"Say something please," I pleaded, a whisper. I couldn't look him in the eye. It was too painful.

"The stomach flu?" he enquired, eyebrow raised.

I nodded.

"The baby's mine?" he asked, tone as neutral as it could be under the circumstances.

"I don't know," I admitted, closing my eyes as tears of shame careened down my cheek.

I opened my eyes and Eric's expression was one I didn't expect; for just a second he looked hurt. Almost as quickly, it was gone.

"Okay," he said with a sigh, pulling me into his lap. "It'll be okay." He held me tightly as I snuggled into his chest, wanting to crawl inside of him. He stroked my hair, calming me as I silently sobbed. I could tell that he was thinking through all the issues.

After a moment he pulled me back from his chest. "What do you want to do? I want you to know that I'll support you whatever you decide—"

"I can't get rid of it, Eric," I said, shaking my head. "I never thought I'd be able... and now—"

"Okay," he said, nodding in acceptance. His features were totally blank. I couldn't tell one way or another what he thought of my decision. "And what about Bill?" he asked carefully.

"I haven't told him yet," I sighed. Eric eyes flashed to me in surprise and then looked away quickly.

"But there is a chance he is the father," he muttered. It wasn't a question this time.

I looked down at my lap, my cheeks on fire, feeling so wretched discussing sex with husband with my lover. "It's a small chance but yes," I confessed. My voice was barely audible but I knew Eric heard me because I felt his body tense beneath me.

After a moment Eric drew me into his chest again, kissing the top of my head. "We'll work this out," he whispered. "We'll work this out."

For a while I just sat there curled up in his lap, feeling safe and protected as he whispered reassurances to me. The outside world melted away as we held each other. Finally, reality broke through and I pulled myself up off the sofa.

"I have to go home. I need to tell Bill that I am having a baby," I announced with a sigh.

"Are you going to tell him about us?" he asked. The inference was clear—was I going to tell Bill that it might not be his baby?

I shook my head. "I can't," I rasped.

Eric pulled himself up to stand opposite me. He cupped my cheek, running his thumb across my skin, and nodded in grim acceptance. I allowed myself to lean into his hand for a moment, basking in the comfort it afforded, and then pulled myself away, slipping out of his office without another word.

On the way home, the tears fell again. Huge heated tears and chest-wracking sobs as I realised that Eric hadn't asked me to leave Bill. And I hadn't offered.

_**February 16**_

Tray came and sat down at our table. "Sorry I'm late guys," he apologised, giving Amelia a quick kiss.

"We were starving," she explained. "So I ordered for you. Steak and eggs."

Tray put an arm around her, pulling her into his burly chest. "That's my girl."

"You're lucky I was here," I joked. "Or you would have ended up with granola and fruits of the forest."

"The sad thing is, I know that's not even a joke," Tray replied with a smile. "No Bill today?" he asked, casually perusing the menu, even though his order was already being cooked.

"He's off to Mississippi again tomorrow, so he had stuff to do at home..." I explained, sounding defensive even to me. "He said to say hi." He didn't, of course, but I was being polite.

Tray and Amelia both nodded exaggeratedly.

I changed the subject. "So I haven't seen much of you at work, Tray. How's it all going with dragon lady Pam?"

"She's a real ice queen, that's for sure. It's a little scary. I like the brother though..."

Amelia laughed. "Tray's got a bit of a boy crush on Eric Northman..."

"I have not," Tray whined. I raised an eyebrow at them both. Amelia prodded Tray. "Okay, I may have said the other night, while drunk I should point out, that I want to be Eric Northman when I grow up," he admitted.

Amelia and I burst into laughter.

"I mean the guy is good-looking... even from my vehemently heterosexual point of view," he added in justification.

"Is he that gorgeous?" Amelia asked me sceptically, eye brow raised. I nodded with a sigh.

Tray continued. "He owns his own night club, which is totally cool... and he takes home a different hot girl every night. What's not to worship?"

"Surely not every night?" I asked, a little disturbed. I leaned back as the waitress placed my Eggs Benedict in from of me. Amelia had indeed gone for the granola.

Tray shrugged, tucking into his steak. "Pretty much. He's like a Scandinavian Hugh Hefner..."

"I think I want to meet him..." Amelia suggested and we collapsed into giggles.

"Absolutely not," Tray pouted, affecting a serious tone.

"Hey, who needs Hef, when I've got you?" she cooed, leaning in for a kiss. He whispered something into her ear and she giggled.

I watched my two best friends with a smile, rolling my eyes as I dug into my eggs, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy biting at the back of my mind.

_**October 23**_

Eric's office was empty, so I went up to his desk. It was unusually tidy on top. Pam must have been in and cleaned it guerilla-style, I thought to myself with a chuckle. I sat in his chair and opened the top drawer, stopping in my tracks.

In it was a picture of the baby; the sonogram shot taken at 20 weeks. One copy was on my fridge at home; I'd given him the other back in July. Instinctively, one hand went to my ever-expanding bump, the other stroked the picture, emotion welling up inside me.

I looked up as I heard Eric approach. "Comfortable?" he teased, with his eyebrow arched.

"I was looking for some staples," I explained.

He nodded in acceptance.

My eyes caught his. "You had it framed..."

"Yes," he admitted, holding my gaze. He knew what I was referring to.

I looked down at the picture one last time. "Um, I should, um... leave you to it." My voice caught in my throat as I heaved myself up out of his chair. I walked past him and he caught my hand.

"You forgot the staples..." he reminded me. I looked down at my hand in his, trying to ignore how good it felt to touch him.

I pulled my hand away. He flinched, as if burnt.

"I'm sure Pam has some," I muttered, leaving his office and pulling the door closed behind me, tears burning my eyes.

_**May 20**_

I knocked on the front door to Eric's apartment, trying to contain the nervous sickness brewing in my stomach. He opened the door, looking relieved to see me.

"You left me a note—" I explained. Despite everything, I still didn't want him to think that I was intruding on his life.

He nodded. "Please come in. I, er, I just wanted to see how you were. I haven't seen you over the last couple of days. I was beginning to think that you were avoiding me—"

I sighed. "I guess I was a bit," I admitted. "I just needed to get my head together."

"Me too," he admitted with a sad smile.

He led me into the living room, and I took a seat, refusing his offer of a drink. "So..." I started, trying to break the painfully awkward silence.

"How did Bill take the news?" he asked quietly.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh he was typical Bill, I guess. At first he was a little put out that I would have the audacity to get myself pregnant when I had made it clear that I couldn't have children..." Eric's eyes caught mine and I looked away. "But once he thought about it, the idea of having a son and heir started to appeal to him. He came home last night with a Wii. I'm not sure he realises that by the time the baby is old enough to play on it, it'll be totally out of date."

Eric forced a smile. I knew his next question was coming before he moved to speak. "Why did you think you couldn't have children? Before?" he asked, a whisper.

I swallowed back the burn in my throat but my voice was still croaky. "Um, something happened to me, when I was a child... an uncle." I grasped my hands tightly in my lap, watching fascinatedly as my knuckles began to turn white. "The doctors said it was unlikely, if not impossible."

Eric's hand extended and reached out to cover mine. I looked up tentatively. His face was red with anger, his eyes full of pain. "Sookie, I..."

"I'm fine," I interrupted, finding his sympathy too much to bear. "Now I am anyway. I just don't really talk about it. I'm not even sure why I'm telling you. Amelia is the only one who knows." The implication was there. I'd never told Bill.

"I killed my mother," Eric blurted out.

I looked at him, for a second paralysed with shock. I pulled back my hand and placed my palms over my stomach, protectively. "You told me she had cancer..." I said warily.

"She did," he said shaking his head, eyes cloudy with recollection. "But at the end she was in so much pain. Weak, sliced up and burned, from all the operations and the radiation. She asked me to help her die, and I couldn't say no. So I gave her pills."

I felt the air expel from my lungs, my heart starting to recover. I looked at him, his face twisted with pain, and I felt my heart break. I crawled across to him, tears escaping down my face, straddling his lap and wrapping my arms around him. He buried his face in my hair.

"No one knows," he whispered. "Not even Pam."

I ran my fingers over his hair, soothing him. "Thank you for trusting me," I murmured.

He nodded; we had trusted each other.

Eric pulled back to face me, gaze heated and emotional. Our lips met instantly, our kisses hungry and needy. I reached down between us, pulling at Eric's track pants and he shifted, pulling them down, freeing himself. Eric's hands kneaded my thighs, pushing up my summer dress and roughly shifting my underwear to the side. His hands cupped my buttocks as he lifted me, bringing me towards him and impaling me on his cock. We both groaned at the feel of it as I rocked against him, our movements desperate, urgent. It didn't take long for us to both fall over the edge, clinging to each other, sated, comforted. We stayed there unmoving for a moment.

I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand as I pulled myself off him. "I should go..." I said, straightening my dress and trying to smooth my hair over.

He nodded, not making eye contact. "I'll show you out."

I stopped abruptly as I approached the door. "Listen Eric, Bill and I have agreed that this will be a new start for us..."

I sensed him tense beside me, and I felt my stomach churn with guilt.

"Eric," I whispered. "I need to try. For the baby."

I pulled back the latch, making to leave. Eric reached around me, pushing the door shut. I spun around to look at him, questioningly.

"What if it's my child?"he asked, eyes full of intensity.

"You don't have to worry Eric," I assured him. "A child is a lot of responsibility to take on and you and I hardly even know each other. This shouldn't have to ruin your life—"

"But if you or the baby ever need me, Sookie..."

I smiled, my heart silently breaking into a thousand pieces. "I know," I whispered. I reached up to brush my lips across his cheek. "I know."

_**December 17**_

I yelled in agony as another contraction ripped through me.

Eric rushed into the room, as flustered as I'd ever known him. I hadn't seen him or spoken to him in over a month.

"Eric, what on earth are you doing here?" I cried out, as the pain dissipated, so utterly pleased to see him.

"I came to be with you," he said, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"How did you...?" I looked across at Amelia, who was holding my hand. She looked totally sheepish. "You knew?" I asked her, incredulous.

"For a big guy you'd think Tray would last longer under torture..." she said with a shrug. "Pam was tougher but when I held a lighter to one of her Ferragamo pumps, she sang like a canary..."

"I'm so sorry I didn't confide in you. I was just so ashamed," I stammered, tears started to well in my eyes.

"Don't sweat it, Sook," she smiled, standing up to embrace me in the hospital bed. "Just make sure the kid is called Amelia and all is forgiven," she joked.

"What if it's a boy?" I asked, with a laugh.

"Either way," she shrugged, nonchalantly.

She turned to face Eric. "The contractions are every few minutes, you just need to hold her hand and help her breath through them."

Eric nodded resolutely.

Amelia leaned into me again to whisper. "He's the one who's here, Sook. I'd say that's a sign..." I nodded. "I'll be right outside if you need me," she announced to the room.

Eric sat down next to me, taking my hand in his. "No Bill?" he asked, slightly disappointed. I wondered if he'd been gearing up for a fight on the way over.

"Seattle," I said with an eyeroll. "Apparently there was an emergency at the club that no one else could deal with." Suddenly I felt the contraction coming on and I tensed, gripping Eric's hand. I screamed out as Eric tried to soothe me.

I smiled at him as the pain subsided. "Thanks for being here," I rasped.

"Thanks for letting me," he whispered.

Nurse Reynolds entered the room, flipping up my hospital gown theatrically and pursing his lips. "Sook, you're about eight centimetres dilated. It's time to get you to the delivery room."

I nodded as he looked Eric up and down, hand on hip.

"Lafayette, this is Eric. Eric, this is Lafayette, or Nurse Reynolds as we have to call him, sometimes." I introduced them through gritted teeth.

"Nice to meet you," Eric acknowledged.

"Mmmm-hmmm. You the father?" he accused.

Eric nodded, looking at me for reassurance. I smiled. "Yes," he said firmly, metaphorically squaring up to Lafayette. "I'm the baby's father." He nuzzled into my ear. "Whatever the outcome," he whispered. "I want to be the baby's father. To be with you—"

I turned to him, face beaming with joy, eyes glassy with emotion.

"Sookie," he said, loud enough for anyone to hear. "I love you."

Tears began to flow down my cheek for about the hundredth time that day, but this time they were tears of joy. I nodded, in total blissful agreement.

"I love you too, Eric," I said, wiping my eyes and preparing myself for another contraction to hit me. "I love you so much."

Lafayette watched us both, amused look in his eye. "Okay, let's get both momma and daddy prepared for the delivery room..."

I looked down at the little bundle in my arms and felt as if my heart would burst.

"She's so beautiful," I croaked, tears filling my eyes.

Lafayette smiled at me, indulgently. "She sure is. She's going to break hearts just like her daddy."

I snorted. "You have no idea…" I ran my finger over her tiny button nose as I rocked her against me, unable to imagine anything more beautiful.

"Okay Sooks, it's time to get her all cleaned up," Lafayette asserted, his tone suddenly professional again. "And you need to get some sleep, missy, or you'll be no good to anyone, especially her. Nurse's orders."

"I do still feel a little woozy—" I admitted, ghosting kisses on each of her tiny fingers.

Lafayette gave me a knowing smile. "It's the drugs. And you haven't had any sleep in over 27 hours…"

"Fine," I agreed, kissing her forehead one more time before reluctantly handing her over. "I'll get some sleep."

Eric leaned over me with our daughter in his arms. He placed a tender kiss on my head, as my eyes became heavy with slumber. "Go to sleep. We'll both be here when you wake up."

**A/N: As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts...**


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